


throw me a boner

by vulpesvortex



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fake AH Crew, First Kiss, GTA AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:32:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4328661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulpesvortex/pseuds/vulpesvortex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan gets hit by bad guys. Gavin gets hit with a clue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	throw me a boner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinypi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinypi/gifts).



> The fourth installment in the unofficial dick puns series of GTA AU fics by [ tinypi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tinypi) and myself. A bit shorter than usual, and no art, alas. (And even more unprecedented, written by me.)

It was nearing dawn by the time Geoff and Gavin finally got Ryan up the stairs to his apartment, covered in stitches and with a fresh cast on his arm. It was dark and quiet inside. The rooms looked weirdly innocuous, neat and with the remains of Ryan's breakfast still on the kitchen counter. There was a half-full mug of coffee on the side-table near the door, presumably left next to the key bowl as Ryan had dashed out the door to work two days ago.  
  
Ryan was still a little wobbly from the pain and anaesthetic, so Gavin and Geoff supported him to the bed, one arm over each their shoulders.  
  
Once they got him settled in, he was out like a light within seconds, still in his t-shirt and jeans under the covers. It hadn’t seemed worth the bother to undress him. Sleep would help him heal, and he needed to heal more than he needed to be comfortable.  
  
"He'll be alright," Geoff said gently, taking in Gavin's worried look. "We got him in time."  
  
"Yeah," Gavin replied softly, still looking at Ryan. His brow was furrowed with pain, even in sleep.  
  
Geoff squeezed his shoulder. "I gotta get back home, but you can stay and keep watch if you like."  
  
"Yeah," Gavin said, watching Ryan breathe softly, unconscious in the bed. "Yeah, I'd like to."  
  
"Okay, then." Geoff clapped him on the shoulder before turning to go. "Call me if you need anything, yeah?"  
  
"Thanks, Geoff." He gave a little salute. "Get home safe, eh?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Geoff waved him off.  
  
Gavin watched Ryan until he heard the door click, then went to lock it behind Geoff. If there was going to be retaliation from the crooked cops, he didn’t need to make it easy on them. He noticed the mug again and took it to the sink to wash, more on autopilot than anything else. It was late and they'd all had one hell of a night: by all counts he should be hitting the couch for a couple of hours of shut eye, but a part of him was still too keyed up to even contemplate sleep. It wasn't until he was rinsing the breakfast dishes under the tap that he realized the water was running red and that his arms were covered in dried blood from Ryan's wounds, fingers to elbow. His hands starting to shake, Gavin abandoned the dishes and scrubbed agitatedly at his forearms until the water ran clear. He slid down the kitchen counter to sit on the floor, breathing hard with his head between his legs.  
  
_God. One of them’d almost died tonight._  
  
It wasn't like they didn't end up in dangerous situations at least twice a week, and would again probably before this week was out, Gavin knew that full well, but this had been different. Getting into a firefight or a car chase was nothing like being captured, like being beaten cruelly and calculatingly. _Snatched by fucking cops_ , and tortured, just to exact a little payback, to get a little of their own back. _Ryan’s face all bloody, his body hanging limp in the restraints, and Gavin’s heart stopped beating, he stopped breathing, his mouth shaping the words “No, no, no” over and over..._  
  
“Fuck!”  
  
Gavin’s arm smacked loudly into the cabinet behind him, hard enough to make the door bounce out next to him. He listened for a moment, for sounds from the bedroom, and then did it again when none came. And again.  
  
“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” _Bang. Bang. Bang._  
  
Gavin was breathing hard. His lungs felt thick, smothered, useless. His elbow hurt, turning red again. He pressed his arms to his chest, rubbing his bruised elbow compulsively, rocking against the cabinet. Images flashed before his eyes: Geoff’s chest marred with bleeding cuts from a knife fight, Lindsay with one side of her face all covered in black and blue, Ray groaning and panting under Jack’s hands as he tried to staunch the bleeding on a bullet wound...  
  
Except none of those things had made him breathe hard like this, had made his legs shake, his arms and chest. None of them had made his heart feel like it was trying to crawl out of his throat and try to take his lunch with it.  
  
_Ryan, in chains and bleeding._  
  
The image flashed in his head again and he almost dry-heaved onto the floor.  
  
Ryan. _Ryan, Ryan, Ryan._  
  
Like a litany, like a prayer in his head. Like a hammer beating him over and over.  
  
Oh god, oh fuck. _Not like this, not like this_ , he pleaded helplessly with himself and almost heaved again as the truth hit him.  
  
He was in love with Ryan.  
  
The knowledge was inescapable, like his bones, like his flesh, and Ryan was right there, in the other room, beaten and vulnerable, so terribly human in way he never was, in a way Gavin had never thought of him. In love. Ryan. Oh _fuck_.

 

*****

 

 _Beep, beep, beep_ , went the Gameboy. Gavin’s Poochyena only needed a few more XP to level up, and only two more levels before it evolved into a Mightyena.  
  
_Beep, beep, beep, a wild Uno appears!_    
  
Great, he only needed two more fights, and then-  
  
“Gavin.”  
  
“Hmm?” Gavin replied absently, shifting on the edge of the bed. Beyond the old Gameboy, he could see Ryan had put his empty soup bowl on the nightstand. Good.  
  
“Gimme that,”  Ryan said, holding out his hand.  
  
“Huh?” Gavin said, finally looking up at him and handing over the Gameboy on reflex more than anything.  
  
Ryan grabbed the Gameboy resolutely with the hand that wasn’t in a cast, the little computer making an aborted Beep sound as he ejected the game cassette and chucked both the cassette and the handheld down the bed.  
  
Gavin opened his mouth to protest, but he was pretty effectively shut up as Ryan grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him decisively into a kiss.    
  
When Ryan finally let him go, he let out a low laugh that went straight to Gavin’s toes. “Thank fuck, that Pokémon music was driving me crazy,” he growled, by way of explanation. “Also, you’ve been looking after me for four days and you’ve barely looked me in the eye; that was getting seriously annoying.”  
  
“You noti-?“  
  
“Of course I fucking noticed. What, did you think you were being subtle?”  
  
“I-“  
  
“It’s not exactly a leap, okay? I get a little dinged up and you go all shifty and start hovering like a fucking maiden aunt. I may have been a little out of it but I’m sorry to tell you, you beating yourself senseless on my kitchenette sorta pinged the radar for me, Gav.“  
  
“I didn’t-“ Gavin protested.  
  
“Are you saying...” Gavin realized Ryan’s arm had come up around his neck, cast and all, and was holding him firmly in place.  Ryan’s voice had gone all low and dangerous, like Gavin had heard a dozen times before, right before someone’s guts were about to spill all over the side walk. A new pulse of adrenaline shot through him, and it was maybe a testament to how fucked up his life had got that he felt his toes curl in his shoes, but not from fear. “...I’m wrong?” Ryan finished, their faces close enough that his nose was brushing Gavin’s.  
  
“Wait,” Gavin said, his hands going to Ryan’s chest, neither grabbing nor pushing away. He closed his eyes, trying to sort through the muddle of his thoughts. “Wait, are you saying you don’t...mind?”  
  
“Duh,” Ryan said, pulling Gavin’s face down again into another kiss, quick and short, like a knifing. Moving his arm inside of his cast had to hurt, but he didn’t let out so much as a whimper. “Don’t you think I’d’ve shot you by now if I did?”  
  
And that, Gavin had to concede, was logic. There was a pistol under the mattress, and another handgun in the drawer of the nightstand, not to mention the fact that even injured, Ryan had a few dozen pounds of muscle on him. When it came to blowing him off, Ryan was spoiled for choice. Instead, Ryan was smiling at him: that shit-eating bullshit smirk that Gavin could recognize even under his mask, from the tilt of his shoulders, the tilt of his chin, and suddenly the truth coursed through him. Ryan didn’t mind. Ryan had his arm around his shoulder. Ryan had kissed him.  
  
He practically dive-tackled Ryan to the bed, with, he was ashamed to admit, less than perfect caution for Ryan’s injuries, but Ryan was a big guy. He could take it.  
  
And he did, melting back into the pillows as Gavin licked into his mouth, Ryan’s uninjured hand still clutching tightly at the front of his shirt.  
  
_Huh._  
  
Maybe this wasn’t such a disaster after all.


End file.
